Massively^™

In a wonderful, feel-good-story-of-the-year type of article, Richard Bartle, the father of online gaming, has written a laudable rant in the Guardian, essentially informing the old school haters that they're officially obsolete. You know the ones -- every reporter making a quick buck off of the party line that videogames are dangerous to our psyches; every politician riding the easy ticket of attacking our hobby in the name of protecting the children; every concerned parental activist group calling for the heads of the developers who worked on our chosen pastime -- Bartle has given them notice.

In his delightfully-worded article, Bartle reminds us all that these witch hunts are generational: previously, it was television; before that, the enemy was rock 'n' roll, comic books, even the novel. People fear what they don't understand, and aggression is what they employ to mask that fear. Every previous generation seeks to destroy the entertainment of the new generation, and for our age, it's the videogame that's under fire. Bartle understands this and quite calmly uses this knowledge to signal an end to the previous generation's influence. Yet he doesn't just condemn, he also offers a way out.

The Common Sense Gamer published a reality checking rant on the coming wave of mobile MMOs. The author of the editorial pointed out that limitations in the technology and a lack of platform standards in the industry will only lead to mediocre if projects. He also suggested that users who aren't near wi-fi hotspots won't be able to get much done.

He probably hasn't used a 3G phone yet; 3G networks are plenty fast. But for the most part, the rant was insightful -- especially on the issue of standards. All these cell phones use totally different platforms for running games, and they vary widely in performance and power. Is it feasible to develop for a dozen different platforms at once? Most game developers have enough trouble as it is with three!

So maybe the best we can hope for is a Snake MMO. Actually, that could be kind of cool.

Tragedy struck hard in Second Life this year. I can think of at least three influential residents that passed on in real life - Feliciaa Feaver, Jesse Malthus, and Ginny Talamasca. While some have been honored posthumously, and others are petitioning for a Remembrance Day for all fallen residents, there's a trend going on that really disturbs me.

When Jesse was tragically taken from us, his mom decided to continue his work in SL. This meant that she would need items from his inventory, requiring her to log into his account. Every time I saw his name pop up as logging in, I remember recoiling in shock. When Ginny died, it was revealed that there were two people behind her popular clothing line. However, the operator of the Ginny avatar, and the person we came to know and love, was the one taken from us. Yet I still see blog entries on her blog and group notices of new products.

Once an avatar's typist is gone, the avatar should be removed after a certain period of time. In Jesse's case, I felt pain every time he was logged in from the afterlife, but in Ginny's case, I feel anger that the name/image is allowed to continue on hawking products. That brings me to my question - Should these avatars live on even though their creators haven't?

The next time you see a couple being cutesy in SL, it might just be Drew Carey and his fiancee. According to PARADE Magazine, they use Second Life to go on dates when they're in different cities. While I think that they deserve kudos for finding a way to stay close to each other when away, I do take issue with Drew's explanation.

You see, he seems to think that SL is a website that is like a virtual world. For those unaware, you would go to the official Second Life website to download a client for the virtual world. Come on, Drew! That's like saying that The Price is Right is a reality tv program that's like a game show. Are you sure you're not meeting up in Habbo Hotel?